


Bus Ride Home

by Asauna



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 02:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asauna/pseuds/Asauna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John had been sent on a dead-end case a long train ride away from London. But, seeing as the railway had closed during their two-day stay in the city, they have to ride a bus to another station in order to get home. (Just something cute I wrote up between the two of them)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bus Ride Home

The railway was out of service. There would be no trains back to London for the next two days, but because of the inconvenience, there were buses available for transport. Sherlock had initially been appalled by the idea of taking such public transport, but with a bit of glaring and quick words from John that this was all Sherlock's fault anyway, he'd gone along with the doctor and found a spot next to a window.

The Detective's fingers were upon his damp phone with no time to spare, water dripping from the two of them. They'd been caught in the rain, which was another reason John so urgently wanted to get onto the bus. It was heated, after all. He was currently sending a rather angry text message to the Detective Inspector , warning him that should he send them on a dead lead this far from home, he'd be sure to make the man pay for it. Sherlock had his ways, after all.

His mind raced, and he hadn't noticed the bus had moved ages back, nor did he realize that John had been speaking to him at one point. The doctor had given up hope of reaching Sherlock, so he settled for just sitting there, glancing around the bus and then past the man and out the window. His eyes would also touch over Sherlock's face, admiring him though he'd never look for long in case the detective had actually noticed. If John had to go through these trivial processes, then he was glad it was with Sherlock.

The Consulting Detective could be brash, insufferable, stubborn and just plain irritating. But John adored all of the other things about him. Sherlock, though he didn't like to show it, did have a heart to go with his mind. So it was always a bit of a pleasant surprise when he bothered to use it. But really, John had a feeling it was because he was rubbing off on the taller man. He remembered in the beginning all those times when Sherlock had said that the lives of the people didn't matter. Apparently, his job wasn't to save their lives, it was to solve the puzzles.

But the doctor had noticed a slight change in that demeanor after it was he who was put in the way of immediate danger.

Sherlock was so confusing at times, but he did adore it. He adored all of this. Living with the man (which wasn't an easy task at first. He learned to love the violin at 3 AM). But he also enjoyed watching Sherlock change. He was smart. Oh, he was a genius. But there were some things he was utterly clueless about. So he felt like part of his job with Sherlock was to help him understand just what to do in those awkward situations.

John's thoughts came to a halt as he began to doze, far too worn out from running all over the city that was hours from home. A village he would have said, but there were far too many people. It was an old town though, and close to the sea. So yes, they were quite a way away from home. When this bus stopped, they would transfer onto a train to take them the rest of the way home.

The Consulting Detective only realized the added weight against his left side when he was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of a child beginning to cry towards the back of the bus. He frowned at the sound, though quickly came to realization that he was also a bit warmer upon his side. When he tilted his head, he paused at the sight of the doctor's face so close to his. If one didn't know any better, they'd say that his cheeks tinted faintly beneath the pale flesh.

But it was also then that, despite the warmth and comfort of the bus, John's damp clothes were making him cold. They'd stopped dripping from the rain obviously, but that didn't mean John's clothes were close to drying. Especially the jumper he had worn today. "Stupid choice." He said under his breath. The detective paused, hesitating before awkwardly pushing John to sit up on his own without disturbing the dozing man, before standing up. He watched the sleeping medical man a moment longer before shrugging off his coat and draping it over John's front as a makeshift blanket. He would suffice without it for the ride.

Taking a seat again, he relaxed without John against him. The man was so.. Distracting, in so many different ways. Why, though? /At first, John was merely coming along with him on his cases to help come up with ideas. The doctor helped now and again with ideas of his own, but usually, Sherlock came to a realization whilst John was fumbling about with attempting to create answers of his own. How foolish. He was no where near capable of making adequate deductions for hims-

Sherlock's thoughts were cut off as they turned, and John slipped against him again. Cheek pressed into the detective's shoulder, a quiet sigh slipping passed his slightly-parted lips. Again, the warmth seemed to touch Sherlock's cheeks and irritation rose in him. He couldn't put a finger on why his heart suddenly felt as if it'd become abnormal in its beating pattern, and certainly couldn't explain the heat in his face.

Well, he couldn't, but didn't really quite wrap his head around the idea. His mind ran through the different chemicals in his body that would set off such reactions, and tried to piece together the proper stimuli for them. Each time, he only came back to John as the proper and single conclusion.

He turned his head to watch John again, letting out a quiet sigh of what could be mistaken as defeat. He hated giving in to the wills of his body since they were so obviously tedious and unnecessary- But this time, maybe he could.. Endure. For John's sake, anyway.

Sherlock turned a little in his seat, propping John up so he wouldn't fall or anything as that, sitting more slanted than he previously had been. He then allowed John to slowly lean into him again, though once more, Sherlock's cheeks warmed at the feel of the man's head upon his shoulder. He could hear John mutter something incoherent and didn't bother attempting to decipher it as he slowly slipped an arm around the hidden man who was still tucked under the jacket, Sherlock's slender fingers gently holding onto his waist.

He had never been one for intimacy, and never cared for this sort of thing. But with John Watson, well.. He could make an exception.

The faintest of smiles crawled onto his lips for just a second, before he turned his head a little and hid it away into the mans damp hair.

Sure enough, the Consulting Detective nodded off as well, still cradling John against him.


End file.
